Encroaching Waves

The sun still wasn't very high in the eastern sky when a sense of dread washed over Valor.

The Chosen of Earth was waiting at the head of the one of the stairways that led from the western ramparts fifty feet down into the baily below. The gates had not yet been breached, but he and others waited here, while other groups waited at the heads of the other stairways upon the walls, which any goblin forces would have to ascend to get at Truce's defenders.

The archers atop the battlements above the main gate were firing volley after volley into the goblin forces that were scrambling at the splintered doors, which still seemed to be holding.

The dread came when Valor heard many of those archers cry out "Battering Ram!"

The warrior moved instinctively, leaving his position and running back to ascend to the main battlements above the gates. Sure enough, looking down over the howling cacophony of the goblin forces below, Valor spied a huge wicked battering ram heading slowly through the ranks of the goblins. Many goblins had stopped picking at the gates to hoot and howl in triumph as ten mighty trolls pushed the massive war machine forward.

Such a war engine could not have been built by the goblins; it was much too solid in construction. Perhaps the ogres themselves had built it although Valor had yet to see any sign of the gray-skinned brutes.

The gates had already been splintered by the last of the catapults, which Valor was surprised to see were no longer operable. At this distance, it was hard to make out much detail, but apparently those allied forces still behind enemy lines had managed to take them down. One looked like it had been burned to a crisp and he bet anything that Robin had had something to do with it, but that was of little matter now. If the defenders didn't find a way to destroy the battering ram before it destroyed the gates, the bailey would be flooded with goblin filth and the defenders would be directly in danger of being overrun.

One captain from the ranks of archers suddenly shouted: "Bring out the pitch and prepare the burning arrows!"

Yes, of course, Valor had almost forgotten that particular preparation, but looking down at the ram, it was unlikely that burning arrows would do enough damage in time to stop it. The whole machine was made of thick wooden components and the main log that comprised the ram was metal sheathed and suspended from the supporting framework by iron chains instead of rope.

Also, the ram's components were covered over by a cat of thick hides that looked almost wet, as if slathered in something, likely a retardant that would help them resist burning.

All in all, Valor doubted that even a full volley of fire arrows would do enough damage in time to stop the ram now that it was nearly in position.

Precious minutes ticked by as the archers prepared their first volley of blazing arrows just as the ram seemed to settle at its position before the splintered gates below. Valor seriously considered jumping down onto the top of the ram's housing and summoning his greataxe to see what damage he could do, but he knew if he fell off at any point, he would be swarmed and killed by hundreds of goblins in no time. Valor might be considerably stronger and tougher than a normal person, but immortal he was not. Facing a whole army by himself was suicide.

Infuriatingly, he knew there was nothing the defenders could do to keep the invaders out. They would breech the gates and they would swarm the bailey. Knowing it was inevitable; he made his way back to his secondary position. Holding the stairways up to the battlements once the goblins made it inside was the best course of action now. The stairways were narrow and the goblins would only be able to come at the defenders above a few at a time. With the goblins sheer numbers, the likelihood of being overwhelmed was still extremely high, but there was no helping that. Valor just hoped the defenders could hold the enemy back long enough for Sana-Lynn to reappear as the orbs had promised.

That was the priority now, stalling for time until this nebulous help arrived… if it arrived… hardly anything to base a sound strategy on. Valor knit his brow. No, it was a matter of faith now, faith in the orbs and in Sana-Lynn, his fellow Light Warrior.

IIIIIIIIIIIIII

Opening her hazel eyes, Sana found herself standing in very familiar room. It was a tall pentagonal chamber of pale paneling, lined with tall bookshelves along four walls. She stood upon a white carpet lined with red triangles before the huge ashen block of the Headmaster's desk.

The girl blinked, looking around curiously. Was she truly back in the Headmaster's study in the White Temple?

Suddenly she shivered, pulling her white robes around her more tightly.

Her memories of recent events were fuzzy. She vaguely recalled searching in the depths below the Citadel of Truce with Valor, Robin and Cidolphus Rumsley. Afterward… floating in a tunnel of pure white radiance… and now this.

Befuddled, the girl worried her lip, her gaze focusing on a statuette that stood upon the edge of the desk nearest her.

"Does Leviathan interest you?" Came a calm even voice.

Sana started, her eyes darting to an old man that sat behind the great pale desk. Had he been there this whole time? The old man was very lean; his head utterly bald like a leathery egg. His gray eyes absently perused a piece of paper he held before him.

His appearance seemed incongruent with what Sana-Lynn remembered. "You… you are not Dalton Samar."

The old man nodded absently, continuing to scan the paper in his hand.

The girl's eyes narrowed, knowing something odd was going on, but unable to decipher what. Mists in her mind muddled her thoughts. She shivered again, pulling the robes around her more tightly still. "What am I doing here, what is this place?"

The man ignored her, his gray eyes narrowing at what he read upon the paper, seemingly troubled.

Exasperated, Sana looked about trying instinctively to discover some clue about the study that would grant her… something…

Clarity…

The voice had been gentle, and yet… buoyed by an unrelenting force… It hadn't come from the man, but from seemingly all around her.

Strange, the statuette of Leviathan upon the desk seemed larger than Sana remembered.

The girl's lips parted hesitantly before she spoke. "Yes, Leviathan does interest me, but I cannot remember why, exactly."

The old man suddenly looked at her, his face expressionless. "Why, Sana? What is she to you, young one?"

"I am… a convergence of two powers… in me." Sana remembered being told something like this once. Why did it seem so long ago?

"What powers are these, young one?"

Trying to order her thoughts the girl scowled down at the carpet she stood upon. The white rug bordered in red triangles meant something… something significant.

Trying to force away the mists in her mind tired her and her knees wobbled. Closing her eyes, she put a hand to her forehead to steady herself.

She did so, opening her eyes again to find herself sitting on the coping of a white stone fountain. The setting around her was washed out, blurred, only the fountain was solid, and she looked down into the cool waters seeing her clear reflection.

Instinctively, she traced two fingers through the water, cool to the touch.

"Are you ready for your test?" Came a friendly voice.

Startled, Sana looked up to see an old man in plain robes, smiling down at her. His gray eyes were warm, his expression fatherly. His head was utterly bald and he was very thin, even spare.

Despite herself, Sana nodded. "Binding the Holy…" she hesitated, suddenly unsure how to finish.

"Binding it to what?" the old man asked.

Dizzy, the girl put a hand to her forehead; cool water dripping from wet fingers to flow down her face.

Anointed One…

That gentle feminine voice again, soft yet inexorable, soothing yet undeniable.

Concentrating in an attempt to cut through the muddle in her mind, nausea suddenly washed over Sana and she closed her eyes again, opening them to find herself in the Headmaster's study once more. This time, however, the pale desk was gone, a leathery old man in plain robes standing to one side of a white stone pedestal upon which perched a large sleek frog. Both seemed to be gazing at her expectantly, the frog blinking.

The strange animal's appearance suddenly jolted something loose... something long since forgotten.

It was early in the day, the sun just peeking over the horizon. A man and woman in rough woolen clothes sat fishing on the bank of a soft-flowing river.

Suddenly the man stood pointing. "Laura, do you see that, out there on the river?" The woman stood as well, putting a hand over her eyes.

The two stood watching as something unprecedented floated down the river. The currents gently pushed it toward the bank where the young couple waited.

An infant wrapped in linen swaddling floated upon some strange board of pearlescent material. It bumped gently against the riverbank and the couple stared down at it.

"Where in the realm did it come from?" the man asked.

The woman shook her head, but reached down to pick up the child, who gurgled at her, reaching out tiny hands to touch her face. "I don't know, Jacen… oh, it's a girl, by the way."

The man scratched at his head. "Well, where in the realm did she come from then?" He paused as his wife cooed at child, smiling down at it. "Laura? Hello, Laura-Lynn Atha, are you there?" The woman failed to answer, playing with the infant as it giggled and squealed at her.

Grumbling, the man suddenly looked down at the strange board the infant had floated upon. Shrugging, he pulled it out of the water, turning it this way and that. It was highly reflective and oddly shaped… almost like some kind of giant… scale.

"We will have to set down roots now, Jacen. We won't be able to just wander about fishing and foraging. I know you and my father don't get along, but his farm is only a few days from here."

The man scratched at his head irritably. "Your father, truly? But Laura, we don't know anything about this child or where she came from. Is it even safe to take to her?"

The woman nodded a bit absently. "I… I think we have to… it feels like we have to."

The man sighed, dropping the strange scale—or whatever it was—back into the river where it promptly sank beneath the gentle currents. "Well, alright, let me gather up the gear and we can be off. I still don't know if this is a good idea, though, Laura."

The woman glanced over. "Come and look at her, Jacen."

Shaking his head, the man walked over to his wife. He peered down at the child wrapped in swaddling and a sudden smile bloomed upon his face as the infant spluttered and squealed. "Yeah, Laura… I think you're right. I think its time to set down roots."

They turned and walked off as the dawn brightened on the horizon.

Gasping, Sana-Lynn found herself on her knees, tears leaking from her eyes. "…Mother…Father…"

She felt a hand gently upon her shoulder. Looking up, the she saw the leathery old man standing over her, his expression warm, yet tinged with sadness. "I must ask you, young one. What is it you seek?"

"I… I don't know," the girl sobbed, wiping tears from her eyes on a sleeve.

"You do know, child. The power is within you already, but it is you who must hone it to a point, to a purpose. Unfortunately, there is little time for you now. You must sink or swim, child, you must find your might amongst the deluge or die in the attempt. Activation cannot be initiated by any other means. The two sacred powers must align perfectly and you are the only conduit by which this may happen. No other may summon me."

"…My purpose…" Suddenly another memory wafted up from the fog in Sana's mind. A lean young man writhing on a bed in a silvery hall, shaking in pain, soaked in sweat, tortured and terrified. "Gantz!" Sana looked up, her hazel eyes determined. "He needs me… they all need me!" She clutched her hands to her breast. "You brought me here didn't you? I… I need your power… your aid… Alexander!"

"Then let the trial begin," the old man intoned.

IIIIIIIIIIIIII

Valor Loftlan grit his teeth as the battering ram slammed at the gates again so hard that the reverberation could be felt throughout the bailey. Truly, the gates had been sturdily made and well reinforced, but it was only a matter of time before the green tide would break through.

The young man waited poised at the head of a flight of stone stairs that lead down fifty feet into the half-mile wide bailey below.

Valor wore his half-plate armor like a second skin, plain unadorned protection that still offered some freedom of movement. About twenty armored soldiers, Defenders of Truce, also stood near him, faces grim and no one saying a thing. The tension was thick enough to slice with a sword, and Valor held his in one hand, his kite shield being gripped in the other.

Multiple stairways led up at other parts along this wall and the eastern ramparts a half-mile away, six in total and all of them guarded like this one. Valor knew Lady Rainhart was poised at the top of one of those across the bailey, and the dwarf Grimnir at the head of another, each with their own small knot of defenders.

Much to Valor's annoyance, Cidolphus Rumsley stood a ways up the wall from him and the other defenders. Not near the stairwell, the thick old fellow stood in his battle attire. It consisted of a pair of leather breeches cinched with a thick leather belt and bandolier worn across a frayed linen shirt with the sleeves torn off to bare the man's muscular arms. The foul-mouthed old engineer looked to have a pile of black orbs set next to him on the wall. They were some kind of explosive, different from the ones the dwarfs used, and the old man had a huge toothy grin on his face, setting down his big wooden mallet and picking up one of the fist-sized orbs before rubbing it on his frayed shirt as if shining an apple. He then cackled uproariously before putting that orb back in the pile before picking up another one. Oddly enough each orb had what appeared to be a bit of hard string poking out of their tops. The old nutter seemed to be polishing his prized possessions in gleeful anticipation for the battle. After Cid finished with this one, he grabbed a clay jar from down at his other side and raised it to his lips, taking three long swigs before setting the jar back down with a shuddering belch. He then giggled like a lunatic before polishing another of his orbs.

Valor could feel disgust at the old man's vile manner welling up within him, but quickly suppressed it. The drunken old fool would help in his way. Valor knew it wouldn't be enough though. Cid had maybe a fifty of the things piled about him, but unless their explosions were half a mile wide, they would be inadequate.

The Chosen of Earth grit his teeth, but tried to focus his unease into something more useful, like determination. Another heavy shudder at the gates, however, battered at his focus, and before he knew it, a mighty crash sounded and everyone looked toward the gates.

The metal-sheathed head of the massive battering ram had finally broken through, bashing the middle section of the gate into splinters. The jagged opening was broad enough to allow hundreds of filthy screeching little monsters to pour in.

Valor heard the captains of the archers over the main gate give the order to about face, and the ranks did so, starting to launch well-disciplined volleys down into the bailey. Still, about five hundred arrows per volley weren't even close to dampening the numbers rushing in. Every now and then a huge troll lumbered in as well, the swell of goblins parting around the much larger greenskin in order to avoid being stepped on.

The inadequacy of the archers soon became apparent as the green tide came to fill the entirety of the half-mile wide bailey. The monsters had little cohesion, however, many groups just running about wildly trying to find something to stab with their crude little spears or knives. In the confusion, some groups ran into others and began attacking each other.

Amusing perhaps, but not useful enough as Valor tensed when a mass of goblins ran toward his section of the wall, having likely spotted the staircase. Glowering dismally at such numbers, Valor knew his sword and shield were the wrong tools for the job. Honestly, he should have known as much before, but fear was clouding his judgment.

He told the other defenders to move back from the head of the stairway. "Kill any that manage to get by me, but don't get too close to me."

The soldiers did so, edging back with their swords and shields. Good weapons for holding back a crush of foes funneled through a narrow space, and the stairway was narrow, only about as wide as two of Valor. Still, with his strength, and the right weapon, the Chosen of Earth knew he could sweep away goblins rushing up the stairs. In this case, Valor believed the old saying of a strong offense being the best defense was appropriate.

In twin flashes of light Valor's bastard sword and shield disappeared. Focusing on the best tool for the job, he summoned his greataxe in another flash of light. With heavy sweeping strikes coming steadily in cadence, he knew he should be able to keep the stairway clear once the goblin's reached him at the top… at least until he got tired.

The warrior took a deep breath, gripping his axe firmly and taking the necessary stance, planting his armored boots for maximum stability. Soon enough, a rush of screeching, hooting goblins swept toward the long narrow staircase and began their way up.

Steeling himself, Valor knit his brow, his blue eyes intense as he readied to swing.

"Give 'em hellfire, ya snooty whelp!" Cid called out from his point up farther along the wall. To Valor's surprise, several tips of the old man's beard were suddenly burning somehow and he touched the fuse of one explosive to them while grinning like a madman.

Valor shook his surprise away, however, just as the first clutch of goblins rushed up at him.

IIIIIIIIIIIIII

The girl opened her eyes, and they soon widened in horror.

It was a night-clasped world, with dark and terrible storm clouds writhing overhead, wicked flashes of lightning giving only seconds of stark illumination over the whole nightmarish scene.

She stood at the side of a sailing ship, which tumbled precariously across a black sea wracked by enormous waves. Sea spray pelted her face and she was soon drenched as the rudderless ship yawed dangerously. Black water washed across the main deck as the sounds of some horrific struggle in the distance combined with shuddering peals of thunder overhead.

Her ship only a splinter amongst the tumult, the girl knew she could not hang on forever, her arms losing strength about the railing as more freezing dampness pelted her.

She got a glimpse of two titanic black shapes writhing in the distance, so colossal they made even the five hundred foot waves seem like mere ripples.

These distant titans bellowed and shrieked, twisting about each other, their mighty struggle causing the sea to churn and rage. Suddenly, something enormous reared up just at the edge of sight before slamming down over the forecastle. With a resounding crash, the ship flew apart like kindling, flinging the girl out into the sea.

She got only one chance to scream before she hit the water and went under, immediately dragged down into an inky abyss where neither light nor air could reach. She writhed in total darkness, not knowing which way was up, unable to see or breathe, pressure building around her from all sides.

Suddenly a minuscule light flared in the distance, able to penetrate through the blackness all around.

She struggled vehemently, trying instinctively to fight her way toward that tiny pinprick of bluish-white light, but currents easily swept her away, the pressure increasing on her until it felt she might implode.

With blackness clawing at her vision, the girl redoubled her efforts to reach the light, when some enormous black form floated down to encompass the dark realm all about her.

Its two massive eyes glowed a malevolent blue, each larger than the ship had been, peering balefully through the shadow-tainted water at her. "The seas are mine now, mortal! Your miserable little serpent cannot escape my many-armed grasp for much longer. A slippery thing she is, but my reach is long and mighty while she weakens into oblivion. I cannot wait to crush the life from her once and for all!"

Despite the forces pressing her back, the girl had managed to struggle close enough to see the light resolve itself into two objects, a staff and an orb. With a final desperation, she reached for them, but was suddenly yanked back ever deeper into the inky abyss, the pressure being so great that she was nearly overcome by darkness…

Who doth rule the sea?

Air bubbles floated up around her and the pressure decreased. Suddenly, the girl was able to breathe. She filled her aching lungs as pain bloomed throughout her body, a dull throb that beat in time with her heart. She grit her teeth as she floated there, suddenly aware of another presence in the inky depths besides the titanic thing with the malevolent blue eyes.

We struggle and the seas rage…

I weaken and the usurper taints the depths ever darker…

The Crystal slumbers beneath the waves…

Thou must awaken it with thy power…

Or all shall drown in shadow…

"I will," the girl vowed, bubbles flaring around her. "But I cannot just yet. There is something else I must do…"

She contemplated the light-borne objects from before. The depths around her were now quiet, but still filled with writhing blackness that she knew would have to remain for some time until fate led her to the Crystal beneath the waves.

Still, she saw the orb and the staff. She already knew what they represented. Two sacred powers combined within her, strengthening each other… empowering her to do what she had devoted herself to ever since she had been brought to the White Temple.

More bubbles flared about the girl, buoying her as she looked back toward the distant light, just as the two colossal presences about her faded away.

"I cannot afford to waste any more time struggling down here. Others are in need of my aid, and as a white mage, I am obligated to give it." Afterward, she simply reached a hand out toward the distant light and the two objects came to her, just as her floating feet touched something solid…

Then, the waters around her began to roar…